Chapter Six

Treize registered the gentle bump as his plane's wheels touched down on the tarmac of the landing strip, even though he was drifting in and out of sleep. A minute later, the shadow of the flight attendant fell over him and his eyes opened.

"Excuse me, sir, but we have landed at Luxembourg base."

"Thank you, Ensign."

She smiled at him and made her way back to the front of the plane, leaving Treize to unfasten his seat restraint and stretch as he stood up, trying to ease muscles strained by spending too many hours in the same position.

The plane rolled to a halt and he made his way to the door, where the attendant snapped a salute, handed him his bag and pushed it open for him. Treize nodded his head to acknowledge the salute and then made his way down the steps.

"Sir! Welcome back!"

The general smiled at Lady Une's greeting. "Thank you, Lady. Have there been any problems in my absence?"

Une fell into step beside him as he made his way from the hangar into the corridors that would take him to his rooms. "Nothing of any real significance, sir. Captain Noin and Major Marquise had something of a disagreement, but I have their assurance that it was a private matter and that it has been resolved."

Treize raised an eyebrow, realising there must have been more to what had happened between the two pilots than Zechs had told him if it had come to Une's attention. "Oh? Did they happen to mention what it was about?"

Une shook her head. "No, sir. I noticed it because the Major had a bruise on his jaw. When I asked him what had happened he told me he had been sparring with Captain Noin."

"Had he?"

"Not according to Captain Noin. When I called her into my office, she told me they'd had an argument – she says she said something she shouldn't have, he slapped her, so she hit back."

Treize turned his head sharply, both eyebrows rising. "He did what?"

Une shrugged. "I chose to let the matter slide, given that she insisted it was a private matter." She hesitated. "Should I have put them both on report?"

Treize shook his head. "No, of course not. Thank you, Lady. You should go and get ready for tonight now. We haven't got much time."

"Yes, sir!" She turned on her heel and walked away.

Treize hesitated for a moment, and then continued to his rooms.

Once there, he dropped his bag onto the couch, went into the bathroom to run his bath, and then went to the panel by the door and input the code for Zechs's rooms.

"Major Marquise." The pilot's pleasant voice was clipped, professional.

"Good evening, Zechs. Are you busy?"

"Treize! When did you get back?"

The delight in the younger man's voice brought a smile to Treize's face. "About ten minutes ago."

"How did it go?"

"How do such things always go? I spent the first two days being escorted around the base by its Commander and the rest of the week discovering the problems he'd been hoping to cover up."

"Right."

"Yes. Are you busy?"

"Not right now, no. Why?"

"Would you care to come and keep me company whilst I get ready for this evening? I'd like to spend some time with you alone if I can."

"Certainly. Can you give me few minutes to change? I've only just come off duty."

Treize smiled, though he knew the younger man couldn't see it. "Alright, Zechs. I'll leave my door unlocked – let yourself in."

"Yes, sir."

Zechs slid into Treize's rooms a few minutes later, pausing only to tap lightly on the door and was in time to hear the last few words of a conversation Treize was having with someone over the base radio system.

"Nothing important, I hope?" he asked, as he closed the door behind himself.

"Zechs," Treize greeted, his eyes sparkling. "Nothing important at all. How have you been?"

The pilot shrugged, the careless movement shifting the wool of the sweater he had chosen for the evening around his slender form. "Fine."

"Really?" Treize closed the distance between the two of them. "Are you sure? That's not the impression I received from Lady Une. What's happened?"

"Nothing but the things I mentioned in my emails. That conversation with Noin…"

Treize stopped a pace or two in front of the blond and raised an eyebrow. "Conversation? Is that what you're choosing to call it?"

"Is there another phrase you prefer?"

The general blinked at the coldness of his friend's tone – clearly, he'd pricked some sort of nerve. "'Conversation' does not generally involve attacking one's fellow officers, Zechs."

Zechs blinked – how had Treize found out about that! "I know that," he admitted.

The older man opened his mouth to press his point home and hesitated. There was something here that disturbed him, though he couldn't quite name what. Frowning, he ran his gaze over his companion, analysing.

"Treize?"

The senior officer smoothed his expression, hiding his concern behind a practiced mask, and smiled. "My apologies, Zechs. I must be more tired than I thought I was. For me it's getting up for midnight. Come and keep me company whilst I bathe."

"If you want me to?" Zechs asked warily, wondering why the older man had let things lie like that.

"Zechs… I always want you to."

The bathroom was warm, the air humid from the steam rising from the hot water pouring into the bathtub. Zechs removed his mask and leaned against the doorframe as Treize bent over the bath and switched the water off.

"Did you have time to read those books I gave you?" the general asked, as he stripped slowly out of his uniform and slid into the water.

Zechs shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Yes… sort of."

Treize tilted his head as he settled against the back of the tub. "Sort of?" he asked, trying not to smile at the flush staining the pilot's smooth skin. Rare were the times that Zechs either had the opportunity, or the lack of self-possession, to behave like the adolescent he was. There was something truly sweet about the way he was colouring now.

"I realise you've been busy this week, but…," Treize continued, and was cut off when his friend shook his head.

"I've read them. Literally read every page, I mean…"

"Did you understand them?"

The pilot was staring at the floor. "One of them," he allowed.

Frowning, Treize sat up and looked at the younger man. "One of them? Which one?"

"Given their nature, Treize, I'm sure you can work it out!" Zechs snapped. There was heat touching his voice and Treize wasn't entirely sure of its source. Was it real anger, which seemed unlikely, or merely embarassment?

"Can I?" Treize asked quietly. "So far as I know," he began soothingly, "you've never studied Psychology, and I know you've read other classic literature…"

"Don't tease me!" Zechs bit off. "When have I ever had difficulty with any science?!"

"Alright," Treize conceded. "I had some notion that you might find de Sade a challenge. You understood the Psychology textbook, though?"

Zechs shrugged, once again looking at the floor. "Inasmuch as I ever will, I think. I have a theoretical knowledge now, at least. It helps a little…" He glanced up briefly. "I'm not sure how much of it is applicable to you and I."

The general smiled, reaching up for his soap and working it between his hands. "Some – not all," he admitted. "Don't fret about this, Zechs. I only gave you those books because I thought they might be of some use to you. If they aren't, they aren't. Forget you ever read them."

Zechs nodded. "Have you read them?" he asked a moment later.

"Of course I have."

"What did you think of them?"

Treize shrugged gracefully. "I thought much the same as you of the textbook, but it's the best formal text I've ever found on the subject."

"And… the other?"

Treize shrugged and scowled as he stood up and climbed out of the bath. He wrapped himself in his towel, dried off, and then made his way into his dressing room, where he picked up his hairbrush and paused.

"Zechs?"

The pilot had followed him from the bathroom and was hovering inside the doorway. "Yes?"

"Why are you so uncomfortable with this topic?" Treize quizzed, curious as to the source of the younger man's embarassment.

The blond shrugged. "I'm… not."

Treize passed the brush through his hair, set it down and began to dress. "I won't force you to tell me if you don't wish to," he replied shortly, shaking his head with his displeasure clear on his face. "But do me the courtesy of admitting the obvious."

Zechs tensed, preparing to defend himself, and stopped when the older man held up a hand.

"My apologies – that was uncalled for." Quietly, Treize closed his wardrobe door, turned around and brought his hand up to run it through strands of pale-gold hair. Zechs maintained his wary stance for a few seconds, and then relaxed, allowing himself to yield to the touch when the general slid an arm around his waist and drew him in. Strong fingers shifted from his hair to stroke a line down his spine and he was caught, wanting to press back into that hand and, at the same time, not wanting to lose the feel of the other man's body against his.

Treize sighed softly. "I meant it. I won't make you tell me what's been troubling you so, but I do want you to."

The younger man shook his head, then rested it against his commander's shoulder. "I don't mean to be so… It's only… I've missed you. It hasn't…" He shook his head again. "It doesn't matter. Not now."

Treize tightened his embrace, his concern at the disturbances in his friend's behaviour marring his pleasure at their closeness. "Zechs… Milliardo… if…."

Zechs lifted his head and silenced his general by kissing him.

When he stepped back, Treize smiled. "Well, that's certainly better, but…"

"Treize. If I have to keep shutting you up by kissing you, we'll never make it out tonight, and I was under the impression you were quite looking forward to whatever it is you've masterminded?"

Red-shot hair shifted as the older man laughed, his navy eyes sparkling. "Oh, I am. I am! I've spent quite some time on this weekend – tonight, tomorrow and the day after…"

For what seemed like the hundredth time that evening, Zechs felt himself blush. The implication in Treize's voice was unmistakable.

"Though, truly," the general continued, "I believe the next forty-eight hours may be the hardest of my life."

Zechs choked, and then began to laugh. Treize held out a moment longer, but gave in eventually, until they were grasping at each other for support.

Scant seconds later, shrill alarms began blaring through the corridors of the base.

Treize remained where he was just long enough to see Zechs turn frighteningly pale, and then he was moving, striding through his rooms at a pace just a hair less than a run. As he reached his door, it opened and Lady Une, her expression urgent, came through it.

"Lady? Why are the alarms sounding?" he demanded.

She shook her head. "I don't know that yet, sir. Could you please gather your things and come with me?"

"Lady?"

"Now, sir," she insisted. "Procedure in the face of an unknown threat, sir. I have to get you off the base."

Treize heard Zechs come into the main room behind him, but he kept his gaze fixed on the diminutive figure of his assistant. "Procedure? I don't recall…"

Zechs had closed the gap and was standing just behind Treize, looking over his shoulder as Une tried to explain.

"Excuse me, sir, but that's likely because this particular protocol has never applied to you before -"

"What protocol? Your priority should be the defence of this facility – I'm certainly not going to leave just when I might be needed most!"

"Sir, as Commander-in-Chief you're considered too valuable to remain in a situation that could prove fatal. Your death would affect our entire operation, perhaps at a time when we cannot afford such a problem. My first order in a situation like this is to see to getting you clear of the danger zone if at all possible. So, if…."

"Lady!" Treize snapped, eyes narrowing dangerously as he listened to her. "I will do no such thing! Consider that order overridden, effective immediately!"

She shook her head, her posture stiffening until she was staring back at him stubbornly. The proverbial rock and a hard place, Zechs thought, watching them.

"I'm sorry, sir," Une said quietly, though her tone was anything but apologetic. "This is one order you can't override – the regulations specifically state 'with or without your co-operation.'"

Treize was shaking his head. "I will not."

To Zechs's surprise, Une shot him a pleading look, silently asking for his help. "Please, sir…."

Treize stiffened, but paused when Zechs put a hand on his shoulder.

"Sir, she's right. We don't know why the alarms are sounding – we don't know that this base will survive. If both you and Une are killed, what happens to our capability to strike back? Let the Lady take command here."

Treize turned his head to look at him, and then relented. "Alright," he conceded.

Une brightened, though her soft eyes still showed traces of worry. "Thank you, Your Excellency!"

Treize hesitated, then went into his bedroom, coming back with his sword fastened to his hip, his pistol in his hand and a folder under his arm. "Where to, Lady?"

"The hangar, sir. I've ordered your plane made ready – Major Marquise here can pilot."

The general nodded his acquiescence but Zechs spluttered, grabbing his helmet and slipping it over his face as they left Treize's suite and made for the hangar area. "Pilot? Me? Lady, I should stay here to help defend the base. I'm the best pilot you have!"

"Yes, you are – and that's why you're taking Mr. Treize. I have no idea what could be out there… there's little point in getting him off the base, if his plane gets shot down on the way."

"But…!"

"Zechs, she gave you an order," Treize broke in shortly. "Obey it. If I have to go, then so do you." He turned his head and smiled rakishly. "Besides, it's been years since I personally saw you at the controls – this could be fun!"

They entered the hangar, all but ignored by the technicians as they cycled up the Mobile Suits. Treize's plane was waiting by the entrance to the hangar, its sharp nose pointing out into the cold of the night.

"Go, Zechs, get her ready. I'll be on board in a moment."

The pilot nodded and ran for the steps into the plane, leaving Une and Treize standing alone.

"Excellently done, my Lady," Treize complimented. "Are you ready?"

Une offered him a rare smile. "Yes, sir. Just let me get hold of Noin…"

Treize inclined his head. "Hurry then – warming the plane won't keep him distracted for long."

"Yes, sir. I've already stored our bags in the hold – I'm sure I haven't forgotten anything."

He smiled back at her. "I never believed that you would." He waited for her to summon the Captain, issuing orders cancelling the alert as he did so and formally turning over control of the base to the Lieutenant-Colonel permanently stationed as the nominal base-commander.

When Noin had joined them, he offered Une his arm and escorted her to the plane – settling the two women into the well-appointed passenger cabin before slamming the hatch of the plane shut.

Its engines spun up slowly and it taxied out into the dark.